Always the Doctor
by Madman With a Pen
Summary: The Eleventh Doctor finds himself face to face with the First Doctor. But who has brought the two Doctors together? And why? Both versions of the Time Lord set out to discover the culprit in this 50th anniversary tribute!
1. Chapter 1

The grinding of ancient engines, the sound of the winds of time howling through a timeless machine, filled the TARDIS control room. At the console, his sharp features illuminated in the pale blue light, stood the Doctor. He felt about the familiar controls, flicking the occasional switch, turning a dial, pulling a lever. Despite all the remodelling the ship had been through, it still felt the same. Same old TARDIS being piloted by, somewhere beneath that bow tie and floppy hair, the same old Time Lord.

He had just dropped Clara off back home. Wednesday, he'd said. He'd see her Wednesday. If he could remember how to get there. They tended to jut out a little, Wednesdays – set into the middle of the week like that, they created neat little bumps in time, making them much easier for time travellers to spot. Always had to watch out for them though – made Thursdays a nightmare to get to. Several times the TARDIS had tripped on a Wednesday, trying to get to a Thursday and ended up tumbling into Friday or Saturday. The Doctor never could get the hang of Thursdays.

There was silence. The continuous calming breath of the engines suddenly vanished. The rising and falling of the time rotor stopped, the vast central column now utterly still. The Doctor looked up, his eyes wide and darting around beneath his furrowed brow.

"That shouldn't have happened," he muttered. "We're in flight. That definitely should not have happened."

Placing his hand softly on the glass column, he whispered to his time machine.

"What is it, old girl? What's wrong?"

A loud clang filled the room – the Cloister Bell. The TARDIS's emergency alarm. The resting blue light of the control room had been disturbed and replaced with a violent crimson.

"Okay," said the Doctor, more volume to his voice now, "that is definitely not good."

The whole ship lurched, throwing the Doctor off his feet as the TARDIS plummeted into freefall through the time vortex. It was only with a lucky and wild flailing of his arms that the Doctor managed to grab one of the bars around the console platform, stopping himself from being thrown clean off it.

"Not good!" he cried. Shoving his hand into his jacket pocket, he rummaged through its impossibly vast interior, pushing aside playing cards, a rubber duck, a frying pan and a Dalek eye-stalk to find the sonic screwdriver. Pointing it at the console, he pressed the button and the screwdriver responded with a high-pitched squeal and burst of emerald light. Bringing it back up to his eyes, the Doctor checked the readings – the TARDIS seemed to be… on pause. As if something was holding the engine in place, still active but utterly unable to move.

_Okay, haven't seen that before._

Pushing himself away from the railing, the Doctor ran at the console, clinging onto it as soon as it was within reach. His hands dashed over the controls, throwing back all switches and levers. The engines screamed out at him – not their usual, regular grinding, but an agitated screech.

"Sorry, old girl, but if you want to survive the landing, I'm going to have to try the oldest trick in the book…" He grabbed the biggest lever on the console and pulled it back with all his might, sending sparks flying from the controls. "I'm turning you off and on again!"

There was a heavy 'clunk' as the lever fell back and the TARDIS was plunged into darkness.

"Right… that's off," said the Doctor. He gripped the lever again, his hand frozen for a moment. He gulped, not quite knowing what to expect. "Now here's back on again…"

He threw the lever forwards and it slammed into place. A flood of light streamed through the control room, the calm blue returning to the metal chamber, followed by the familiar sound of the engines in motion. The Doctor beamed at his machine as normality resumed.

"Oh, well done, you sexy thing! Now – something just took hold of my TARDIS and stuck its hands in the gears. Let's find out what."

Back at the controls, the Doctor set a landing course. The engines came to a crescendo before falling silent with a whispered 'thud'.

Dashing from the console to the doors, the Doctor wrenched them open and looked out. As soon as he saw his surroundings, he froze, mouth open and eyes wide.

White walls, adorned with roundels, surrounded the TARDIS. A smaller, white, console sat just beyond the threshold. The Doctor recognised this pace all too well.

It was the TARDIS. The TARDIS had landed in the TARDIS – an older version of itself. The first version of itself. This was the TARDIS when the Doctor had first left Gallifrey.

"Excuse me, young man," snapped an old voice that the Doctor had not heard in a very long time, "but I think you had better explain yourself."

"Yes…" the Doctor murmured. "I think there's going to have to be quite a lot of explaining… Doctor."


	2. Chapter 2

"Who are you?" snapped the Doctor – the other Doctor. The younger Doctor, who looked older. The first Doctor.

"Isn't the big blue box a bit of a giveaway?" asked the older Doctor – the one who looked younger.

"I have no idea what that contraption of yours is and I don't much appreciate it being in my ship," said the old man, his eyes keen and piercing as they gazed upon the man he would become.

"You don't recognise it? This is very early for you, isn't it?" said the Doctor.

"What do you mean? You're not speaking much sense, young man," replied the Doctor.

Stepping out of his TARDIS and into its younger incarnation, the Doctor approached the old man who stood before him. His face was so old, the long silver hair swept back from the temples, the skin adorned with lines drawn by a long life. The longest life he had ever had. But the eyes were young. The eyes were windows to the soul of an outcast and a rebel, like a teenager running away from home. In their gaze, there was no trace of the bloodshed or the guilt or the pain that plagued the old eyes of the man in the young body.

"No," said the Doctor. "I'm afraid I'm not. You'll have to get used to that – it's a habit you start to pick up somewhere around Ian and Barbara. By the time Number Four arrives, you'll have mastered it."

"What are you wittering on about?"

"Your future. Something I shouldn't be telling you about, actually – forget everything I just said." The Doctor was looking carefully, engrossed in his intrigue, over the features of his very first body. He almost missed that face. It was him. That was what he really looked like. Most of his life, he had been in that body. It hadn't been thrust upon him, fully grown, like the others. He had grown with it. Sometimes he still felt like that was who he was, deep down, stuck behind a different face and a new outfit.

"Young man, if you do not start explaining yourself soon-"

"I'm you!" said the young man. "You from the future."

"What do you mean?"

"Regeneration – I'm one of your future selves!"

"Oh, are you now?" said the old man, giving a high-pitched laugh through closed lips. The sound of it seemed to light up his future incarnation's face.

"That laugh! I remember that one!"

The old man's gaze shot up at him.

"Young man, tell me, why exactly should I believe you are me, hmm?"

The Doctor gestured to the police box standing behind him.

"Well, you saw the TARDIS appear! That's my TARDIS – your TARDIS, from the future!"

"Then why does it look like that? What have you done to my chameleon circuit?"

"Me? You're to blame for that one, Doctor!"

"Oh, am I now? I must say, I'm still finding very little evidence here to convince me that we are one and the same man."

"Oh, I can't believe I was ever this… stubborn! Okay, listen to me, you have fled Gallifrey in this Type 40 travel capsule, with your granddaughter Susan, because you can't stand the Time Lords' non-intervention rules. You chose the name Doctor because it means 'man who makes people better' while your former best friend now calls himself the Master and is an utter raving lunatic that you're not going to run into for a good few years!"

The first Doctor's eyes widened, his thumbs massaging the lapels of his jacket as his brain processed the words he would one day be speaking. The older Doctor – the man in the young body – broke into a laugh at the sight of his former self.

"What is it?" the first Doctor asked.

"Nothing. Just – the lapels. Oh, I remember that!"

Something in the old man's hard expression seemed to soften a little as he accepted the future Doctor's identity. What other explanation could there be? It wasn't completely beyond reason, after all.

"So, my good man, tell me – how far down the line are you, hmm? How many lives later do you come from?"

"Ten regenerations – eleventh Doctor," said the Doctor.

"My, my, my – there are eleven of me now! I suppose I must look a decade younger with every one of them to get to your stage," said the other Doctor.

"Oh, look who's talking, grandpa! I'm the Doctor, but no running down corridors, I forgot my Zimmer frame!"

"Zimmer frame? What are you talking about?"

"Right, of course, sorry. Earth stuff – suppose you've not really got there yet. Never mind."

"Yes, well none of this prattle is particularly important. Tell me – what precisely are you doing on my ship at this point in its timeline?"

"Right, that, yes," said the eleventh Doctor. "No time to waste on the whole catching up thing – matter at hand. The TARDIS ran into a little trouble – something was stopping the engines, froze them mid-flight and pulled the ship into freefall. I took back control, followed the trajectory and ended up here."

"How very peculiar," muttered his younger self. "The TARDIS was having some similar problems on my end. I have been transmatted, you see – the whole ship has been moved in time and space by some external force. I was going to leave but I was prevented from dematerialising."

"Meaning if I hadn't intervened, the TARDIS would have been pulled full force into itself at an earlier point in its own timeline."

"Why, if that had happened, the collision would have torn both ships apart, creating a paradox."

"Yes… the TARDIS can't stop itself from existing. And a paradox involving two exploding TARDISes could be catastrophic. It would tear time apart, twice!"

"The very fabric of time and space could be threatened," said the first Doctor. "Who would attempt such a thing?"

"Who could? Who has the ability to interfere with both our TARDISes?"

"Only a being of extreme power. They must be able not only to reach into the workings of the TARDIS itself, but through my own timeline."

"Well, I don't know about you, Doctor, but I'm starting to wonder exactly who we're dealing with here. So what do you say we take a look outside?"

"Not yet," said the first Doctor. "I've not been able to get the scanner working."

"The scanner? When was I ever so careful?" said the eleventh.

"And how have I become so impetuous? Hmm?" The first turned away from his future self, casting his eyes towards the door at the back of the console room. "Anyway, before I go anywhere, I must check on Susan."

"Susan?" the Doctor repeated. His voice was suddenly quiet, his brow furrowing.

"Yes, Susan. Your granddaughter! You do remember her, don't you?"

"Yes," said the eleventh, rubbing at his eyes. "How could I ever forget Susan?"

"Is she not with you as well?" asked the first, turning back to the other Doctor.

"No. Not anymore."

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing. Just… you know how kids are. They all grow up eventually, have to leave home," said the eleventh Doctor. "And we have to let go."

"Yes. Quite right of course." And with that, the first Doctor hurried off and through the door, his future self slowly following him.

Beyond the threshold, a sparse white lounge awaited them. A curved recliner had been lowered from one of the walls and on its soft surface lay a figure all too familiar to both Doctors. Her features were young and beautiful in a strange, ethereal way. Her eyelids were gently shut and her breathing had grown slow and regular. Both Doctors spoke at once upon seeing her.

"Susan?"

The first Doctor strode over to his granddaughter, placing his hand on her forehead.

"What happened to her?" asked the eleventh.

"When I tried to start the ship there was a sort of crash, like the TARDIS was being pushed back. The poor child fell unconscious."

"Interesting," muttered the eleventh as he produced his sonic screwdriver from within his pocket. He walked over to where Susan was lying and scanned her with the device.

"What is that contraption?" asked the first Doctor.

"Sonic screwdriver… you'll get there eventually…" He checked the readings on the device, before dropping it back into his pocket. "She's been placed in a remote cryo-sleep. She'll be fine as long as we leave her be."

"It seems whatever has brought us together is only interested in the Doctors, then."

"But why? What is it? What could want both of us?"

"I've no idea, but I certainly intend to find out," said the first Doctor.

"That's the spirit, Doctor! Come on – let's take a peek outside."


	3. Chapter 3

The TARDIS doors swung open and the Doctors emerged, stood side by side. The glare of featureless white walls filled their eyes and a single doorway stood waiting patiently for them on the far side of the room.

"Why, it looks just like yours," said the first Doctor.

"What?" The eleventh Doctor noticed his other self was looking back towards the ship. Following his gaze, he saw the TARDIS behind them had now indeed assumed the guise of a police box for what must have been the very first time in the ship's life. "Oh, I see… strange. Hardly blends in here. Why has it done that?"

"Interference, perhaps? From your ship? My chameleon circuit hasn't been in the best of shape lately."

"Yeah, sorry, you never really sort that. But no, I don't think that's what it is. Chameleon circuit's only connected to the exterior dimension. My TARDIS being inside shouldn't have any effect, no matter how battered your circuitry is."

"So what's your explanation for my ship taking this shape, hm?" asked the old man.

"Maybe we're in London, in the middle of the twentieth century and we've just landed in a sort of… box," said Eleven, not really sounding convinced. "Not sure. We'll figure it out. Come on."

The eleventh Doctor reached the door in a few quick strides, while his past self took it at a more leisurely pace.

"Can you hurry up a bit?" said Eleven.

"I don't see the need for all this rushing about," said One. "There's nothing hurrying us, we might as well take this at our own pace."

"Yes, well, I'd rather get to the bottom of this before I die of old age… again."

"Oh, calm down, young man!"

"Young man?! Listen, kiddo, I'm about twelve hundred years old… probably. You're not even middle-aged! Bit of respect for your elders would be nice."

"Er, yes… quite," said the first Doctor, before turning to face the flat surface of the door before them. "Now, if we can work out how to access the mechanism in this door, we might be able to trigger some sort of a-"

With a quick flash of the sonic screwdriver, the eleventh Doctor had the door wide open. The old man at his side was staring at him with wide eyes and pursed lips.

"We might be able to trigger some sort of a reaction to open the door, yes. Good thinking. Oh look, I just did it."

"A sonic screwdriver, you say?" said the first, after a moment's pause.

"Yes."

"I really must look into building that device."

"Oh, don't worry," said the eleventh. "You will."

"But then again… I seem to have managed perfectly well without it so far."

And with that, the first Doctor started off down the corridor beyond the doorway.

"Hey, hold on, you didn't do the look," said the eleventh.

"Look? What look? What are you talking about?"

"Before you went down the corridor, you didn't do the sort of… dramatic pause look," he explained. "You've got to do the look. I mean, brand new door, you don't know where it's going to take you!"

"My dear boy, you didn't even want to check the scanner," said the first, before heading onwards.

"Yeah, well… my way's cooler," muttered the eleventh. He cast a cursory glance back to the TARDIS, stuck in a shape that should still have been waiting in its future, and then hurried after himself. "You do realise that whatever brought us here could be waiting around any corner!"

"Indeed," said the other Doctor. "With any luck we shall face this monstrous opponent very soon."

"You know, there's a lot of fight in you," said Eleven. "I think I forget that sometimes. You were the funny grumpy old man, the grandfather, the thinker. But I suppose I had some fire in me from day one."

"Very nice of you to say so," said One. "And maybe you aren't quite as erratic as you first appear. Somewhere beneath all that energy and that ridiculous hair, there seems to be a rather cautious fellow."

"Weight of experience, I suppose. Hell of a lot of it by the time you're me."

"Not all bad, I hope."

"All of time and space on your doorstep – it couldn't all be bad!"

"But I daresay some of it must be, hm? I see it in your eyes. You seem so… sad."

"I've been travelling around for a long old time now," said the eleventh Doctor. "I've had my fair share of heartbreak."

"And yet you're still going! All these years and you've never gone home – why not?"

The eleventh Doctor smiled a little at those words, laughing to himself.

"Oh, believe me, Doctor, I'm going home. I'm going home right now. I'm just… taking the scenic route."

They had reached the end of the corridor, another door looming in front of them.

"I'll let you open it, then," said the first Doctor.

"You sure you're ready to face this?"

"Oh, I already know I should be absolutely fine – otherwise you wouldn't be here, hm?"

"You know that's not how it works. Time is in flux."

"But you must remember living through all of this before."

"You know, you were never renowned for having an amazing memory, Doctor."

They shared a grin, the same grin, centuries apart. Then the eleventh was brandishing his screwdriver and had the door sliding away before them. A vast chamber, alive with the hum of electricity and filled with thick black coils of wire, lay beyond the threshold.

The two Doctors peered into the room, both knowing this had to be the home of whatever had brought them together. The all-powerful foe they had been seeking had to be here, beyond this very doorway.

What they saw stopped them in their tracks. It was the last thing either of them had expected.

Sat in the middle of the room, a little boy and a little girl were crying.


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't understand," said the first Doctor, his steely gaze starting to soften as it fell upon the two children.

The eleventh Doctor walked silently into the room, approaching the children, who looked up at him through teary eyes. He crouched down beside the boy and wiped away a tear from his cheek.

"Who are you?" asked the boy.

"I'm the Doctor," said the Doctor. "What are your names?"

"Sydney," said the boy.

"I'm Verity," said the girl.

"Sydney, Verity… those are lovely names. And what are you doing here?"

"We're lost," said Verity. "We tried calling for help. Is that why you're here? Can you help us?"

The Doctor smiled, a warm grin lighting up his features, and nodded his head.

"Yes. I can help you. And that's exactly why I'm here," he said. "Do you remember how you got here?"

The other Doctor was suddenly tapping his shoulder.

"My dear boy…"

"Not now, I'm talking to Sydney and Verity," said the eleventh Doctor.

"Who's he?" asked Sydney.

"He's also the Doctor. It's very complicated and timey wimey, but you're kids so you should understand perfectly."

"Timey _what_?" said the first Doctor. "Look, just stop wittering on and look up, will you?"

"Okay," said Eleven, getting to his feet. "No need to… get… grumpy…"

His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted upwards. Above them and above the banks of machinery and clusters of cables, there sat a vast and perfect orb of brilliant blue light. Twitching trails of light dashed and danced across its immense surface, creating pulses and heartbeats and breaths and painting life across the thing's flawless skin.

"What do you suppose it is?" asked the first Doctor, his voice lowered to a whisper. "A power source?"

"A living power source, yes," said the eleventh Doctor. "It's an Olympian time ship."

"Olympian?"

"Yes, from Olympus," said the Doctor. "Not the mountain, the planet. It's beautiful. Apparently. I don't know why you never went. Maybe you will, one day. These ships are incredibly rare. Most the universe thinks they're only a myth. I've only seen one once before, a very, very long time ago."

"When exactly?"

The eleventh Doctor shot a sudden glance at his past self.

"Right now."

The first Doctor looked back at him, taking a moment to silently piece his future self's words together.

"So you do remember this?"

"It's coming back to me, yeah," said Eleven, before he turned his attention back to the orb above them and called out to it. "Hello there! Olympian time ship, can you hear me?"

"Are you… the Doctor?" it asked. The voice filled the room with its echoing, melodic tones, like countless singsong voices twisting and intertwining to become one.

"Yep, that's me," said the Doctor. "Also, old boy over there, who is technically a very young boy compared to me, but oh well. Now, time ship, do you have a name?"

"My designation is Delta-Fifty."

"Nice designation. Lovely to meet you, Delta-Fifty. Now, did you kidnap these children?"

"They were needed," said Delta-Fifty.

"My dear… um… vessel," said the first Doctor, "you cannot simply abduct two innocent sentient beings!"

"Oh, look who's talking," muttered the eleventh Doctor.

"They were needed," Delta-Fifty repeated.

"Well, you can't have them," said Eleven. "And if you don't let them go now, I'm going to have to save them and then I'll have to stop you."

"I am… sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I meant no harm. I would never harm the children."

"Then why take them at all?" asked the first Doctor. "What are they doing here? They are clearly here against their will."

"My energy resources are depleted. My circuits need psychic energy," said the ship. "I just wanted to fly. I was so lost and alone and I just wanted to fly."

"And you took children?" said the first Doctor. "A young boy and girl, so easily frightened, when you could have taken a fully grown and developed mind instead?"

"It had to be children," said the eleventh Doctor. "Psychic energy. A child's mind is full of infinite potential and imagination. The mind of a child would provide far more energy for a ship like this than an adult mind ever could. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

The eleventh Doctor turned on his heel, his long purple coat billowing out behind him as he called back up to the orb at the heart of the ship.

"You're a time ship," he said. "It's not just psychic energy you're sensitive to, it's time energy, am I right?"

"Correct."

"You needed help. The children wanted help as well. Instead of refuelling your engines, they called out for help and their cries, boosted by your psychic circuitry, smashed through the time vortex and found me – both versions of me! They found the one man who could help them, and they found him twice! Delta-Fifty, Sydney, Verity… the Doctor is in!"

"What are you going on about now, hm?" said the first Doctor. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We're the Doctor. We're supposed to help. And that's exactly what we're going to do – we're going to save the ship and we're going to save the children."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"Psychic energy and time energy. If we accessed the ship's psychic network and both shared exactly the same thought at exactly the same moment…"

"Then it would form one thought, in one mind, but existing over nearly eight hundred years!"

"Exactly! Time difference boosts the psychic energy, while the psychic link across all those centuries will boost the time energy, refuelling the ship and sending it flying back off into space!"

"Do you know, that might just work," said the first Doctor. "I must say, I do have my moments!"

"Yes you do, Doctor!" The eleventh Doctor was beaming and suddenly everyone in the room was sharing his expression. The children weren't crying anymore – they were smiling back at the man who had promised to save them. "Delta-Fifty, patch me and myself into your psychic network. And disconnect Verity and Sydney while you're at it!"

"Of course, Doctor," said the time ship.

Haloes of white-blue light momentarily shimmered into life around the children's heads, before flashing out of existence. In the same second, similar haloes formed around the heads of the two Doctors, who took up positions on opposite sides of the room, looking each other dead in the eye.

"Okay, Doctor," said the eleventh, "think: fly. Tell this ship to fly!"

The light surrounding each Doctor's head started to intensify, growing bigger and brighter, shaking with fervent energy as the Doctors' minds began to form the same thought. One thought, across eight hundred years, feeding into the heart of the ship.

Fly.

Machinery was humming with life and energy all around them, the whole room starting to shake as the trails of machinery that was just waking up fed on the Doctor's thought.

Sudden showers of sparks rained down into the chamber from high above. Machines popped and fizzled, shooting smoke and flame into the bustling chamber.

"What's happening?" said the eleventh Doctor.

"The link between us isn't strong enough!" said the first. "We're too far apart in our timeline – this ship doesn't have enough energy to form the temporal connection!"

"Oh, connection problems. Typical! Still, I can fix that." The eleventh Doctor snatched the sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket, aiming it up at the orb above.

"What are you doing?" asked the first.

"There is a very weak connection between us – I'm boosting it by calling in a few extra connection points!"

There was an eruption of light and sound, the haloes around the Doctors now vast and consisting of only pure white light. Then more haloes began to burst into existence, each filled at first by only vague luminous shapes, which started quickly to solidify. The shapes became men and the men were all one man.

Beside the aged and white-haired first Doctor, there appeared a short man with a mop of black hair and a scruffy bowtie. Next there came the figure in the frock coat, with sharp features and a mane of silver hair. Then there was the long scarf and the wide-eyes; the young man in the cricket whites with the stick of celery on his lapel; the mad clash of every colour and sharp, staring eyes; the shorter man with his panama hat and umbrella in hand; the Victorian gentleman with untameable hair; the old warrior in his weather-beaten outfit; short hair and big ears in the leather jacket; and the man in the trainers and the pinstriped suit finished the gathering at the side of the eleventh Doctor, in his bowtie and tweed.

"Okay, Doctors," said the oldest of all of them, "we're going to get this ship flying!"

One thought, one word, echoing in twelve versions, pretending to be eleven, of one mind. And in that thought, in that shared command between Doctors, there was their promise. The promise they had all made so long ago. The promise to help others at any cost, to put the preservation of life before anything else, to always save those who needed it most. The promise to be the Doctor.

With a rush of energy, the whole ship lit up, the bellow of power filling every inch of the vessel. The engines thundered into life and the room shook violently as Delta-Fifty started to take off.

"Thank you, Doctor," said the ship. "I was lost and alone until you found me. And now you have saved me. Thank you!"

"Not a problem, Delta-Fifty!" said the eleventh Doctor.

"Your circuits should all be in order," said the first. "Ship-shape, as it were!"

"Now, Doctor," said the eleventh to the first, "we're a busy man, we should probably let ourselves get back to their own time-streams and then we can get the kids back to where they need to be!"

"Yes, yes, of course," said the first. He then turned to look at each of his future incarnations and, for just a moment, a tear twinkled in his eye. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you, Doctors."

Then, one by one, the Doctors started to fade.

"I'll see you all soon," said the second.

"To days to come," said the fourth.

"And to days long gone," said the eighth.

Going with a broad grin, Ten was the last to fade.

"Allons-y," he said.

Eleven watched with a smile as they all left, before turning his attention back to the first Doctor, who was still stood across from him.

"Right then, Doctor – transmat down to the planet below. Take the kids and the TARDIS with us."

Their vision was suddenly claimed by a bright white glow, which was gone in a second. When it had subsided, they were no longer aboard the ship but were stood atop a grassy hill, overlooking a sprawling city below.

"We're home!" Verity yelled out in glee. "Sydney, look, we're home!"

"That was amazing!" said Sydney. "I want to go into space again!"

"Maybe when you're older, eh?" said the eleventh Doctor with a wink.

"Do you think one day we could build a spaceship like that?" Sydney asked Verity.

"I hope so. I think we should travel in time!" said Verity.

The Doctor crouched down, smiling at the two children whose eyes were practically glowing.

"Sydney, Verity – don't ever give up on those ideas. I'm sure one day you will achieve something amazing."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Verity.

"Thank you, Doctor," said Sydney.

"You're very, very welcome," said the Doctor.

"And our thanks to you for a wonderful time," said the first Doctor, grinning at the children. "Now go on, shouldn't you be running home, hm?"

They both repeated their thanks to the first Doctor and then ran off, heading down the hill, pretending to be spaceships. The first Doctor laughed fondly at the sight, his hands at his lapels. The eleventh Doctor just grinned and straightened his bowtie as he watched the children run off, safe and sound and happy, thanks to the Doctor.


	5. Chapter 5

The gentle hum of the TARDIS cast a soothing atmosphere across the control room. The two Doctors were stood at the console, checking various dials and readings as their minds drifted to their future and to their past.

"The psychic interface was to blame for your TARDIS looking like a police box," said the eleventh Doctor. "The children were calling for help. When that call reached your TARDIS, it made it assume a shape from its future that… well, that had become synonymous with help."

"I build up something of a reputation then, do I?" asked the first.

"You help a lot of people," said the eleventh. "I hope it's not too arrogant of me to say you've been doing a pretty good job for the last few centuries!"

"But those men… those other Doctors… all of them were me?"

"Yes."

"And they've all been doing this? They've all been helping people, seeing that the universe is better off, for all those lifetimes?"

"Every single one of them," said the eleventh.

"Well then, it seems I have quite a legacy to begin," said the first with a small laugh. "Just one question though, my good fellow…"

"Now, Doctor, you know I can't tell you about your own future."

"But, you said you were my eleventh incarnation," said the first Doctor. "But, including us, there were twelve Doctors in that room."

The eleventh grinned at his past self.

"No," he said.

"No?"

"No. There was one Doctor. Twelve different faces, all one man. They were all the Doctor. They were all you."

"But why call yourself the eleventh when-"

"Spoilers," said the eleventh Doctor. "It will all make sense one day. You know that. You're just going to have to take the long way round, Doctor."

"Yes. Yes, of course," said the first, as the eleventh busied himself at the console.

"Your circuits are in a hell of a state after that transmat. Must have been a very rough job. Blimey, it might as well have ripped out your chameleon circuit…" He looked up from the console, as if only just noticing his own words. "Oh, of course…"

"Never mind that," said the first, "is the ship in good enough a condition to fly?"

"Might need a bit of fixing up, but you should be able to just about manage it," said the eleventh. "Probably going to need a jump-start for your next flight though. Just to get the engines back in gear. Where are we, anyway?" Flicking a few switches, he brought up a readout on the scanner. "Ah, there we go. Twenty-third of November, two thousand and thirteen. England… or, possibly Wales. Nice date. One of my favourites."

"Twenty-first century earth, hm?" said the first. "Well, I've no desire to hang around here."

"Well of course not," said the eleventh. "You're going to want something a little more… retro. What about the sixties?"

"The sixties? What do you mean?"

"The nineteen-sixties, on Earth. Come on, Doctor, the sixties are cool!"

"Look, if you could just get my ship started again, I would be most grateful."

"Yes… yes, of course," said the eleventh, walking over to where his TARDIS was still stood in the old control room. "I'll give you a tow, use my TARDIS to give yours a nudge through the vortex. Should wake those engines up."

"Thank you," said the first. "Thank you, Doctor. It's very reassuring to know my future is clearly in very capable hands. And that, after so many years, I am still living up to the name of the Doctor."

The eleventh was smiling back at him from the door to his TARDIS.

"Whatever else changes, that is the one thing we will always be," he said. "We are always the Doctor."

And with a final grin, he straightened his bowtie, raised his hand in a wave of farewell, and vanished into his time machine. A few seconds later, the rushing and groaning of engines was bellowing out of the old blue police box as it started to fade away. And, in response, the central column of the first Doctor's TARDIS console started to rise and fall, the engines rumbling into life to echo the future TARDIS.

"Oh, and Doctor," said the first Doctor, "where exactly are you sending me?"

"Where the TARDIS always sends you," said the eleventh, over the intercom. "Exactly where you need to go."

In the darkened silver control room of the future TARDIS, the eleventh Doctor busied himself at the controls, setting a destination for his past self.

"Seventy-six Totter's Lane," he said. "Fifty years ago. Hope you like it Doctor, because that's where it starts. That old junkyard on that quiet little planet is the first step in the greatest adventure in all of space and time."


End file.
